


no power to take me

by weatheredlaw



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 02:11:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17674442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: (for i was ever yours)For Vex'ahlia, princess of Syngorn, freedom comes with caveats. While her twin brother is proffered the future throne, she is stuck behind the castle walls, biding her time until...something.When Percival de Rolo arrives as her father's blacksmith,somethingcertainly happens.





	no power to take me

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this](http://minky-for-short.tumblr.com/post/182559945672/minky-for-short-okay-so-here-me-out) art by minky-for-short on tumblr. been a while since i wrote something and i've missed the first campaign sandbox!

As per usual, when it came to meeting recent palace hires, Vax’ildan could not be found, and so Vex’ahlia took her brother’s place. While it could have been an opportunity to endear herself to her father,to show him it was she who could be the competent heir he required, it only served to disappoint him further.

“I’m sorry,” she said, bowing her head and taking her brother’s customary place at her father’s side.

“No matter.” Her father stiffened as she took her seat. “Bailysh, please continue.”

Her father’s advisor nodded and continued down the line. They had recently brought in several new craftsmen to aid in what her father called the “beautification of Syngorn.” Vex’ahlia understood her brother’s aversion to meetings like these. They were dull, fanciful, and often a waste of time. No craftsmen hired by her father ever lasted longer than a year, with the exception of court musician Scanlan Shorthalt. There were a handful of others hired in the last few seasons who seemed to be on track to complete their fateful twelve months serving under King Syldor Vessar, but Vex had her doubts. This lot looked no different.

Except…

Except the one idling at the end of the line, with stark white hair and freshly pressed clothes. At first glance, Vex had mistaken him for one of the less insipid members of her father’s court who hung around like flies on dung. However, at Bailysh’s insistence, he stepped forward and identified himself.

“Percival de Rolo, sir, of Whitestone.”

“Your new _blacksmith_ , ser.”

Syldor leaned forward. “Whitestone, you said?”

“I did, ser.”

“Then you are certainly _Lord_ Percival de Rolo, and you are _not_ just a blacksmith.”

Percival smiled, and Vex instantly liked him better. “You are correct, ser. I am the second son and third child, but it is my youngest sister who rules over Whitestone.”

“Ah, yes. We did hear, some years ago, of your family’s tragedy. Please, accept my condolences on behalf of all of Syngorn.”

“They are appreciated, ser,” Percival said with a bow.

“But you call yourself a blacksmith, and so, a blacksmith you shall be. You wouldn’t be here were you not talented, so I eagerly away whatever it is you have planned for us here.”

“Indeed, ser. I’m eager to show you what I can do.”

It was at that exact moment that Percival de Rolo caught Vex’s eye. His gaze stunned her, but only for split second, before he was following the rest of the craftsmen to their rooms. She watched him go, admiring the confidence of his walk, holding onto the rich timbre of his voice.

 _What a treat_ , she thought as she was dismissed by her father. She’d have to thank Vax’ildan for his... _untimely_ absence.

 

* * *

 

“And so these go here?”

“Ah, yes. Yes, they’re _bulbs._ They’ll rest for the fall and winter, and they’ll be up in the spring.”

“Oh, wonderful. That’s truly brilliant, Keyleth.”

“They’re _flowers_ , brother.” Vex purposefully pricked the tip of her finger on a nearby thorn. “She didn’t invent them.”

Keyleth, their head gardner, stood quickly. “Your highness.”

“Unnecessary,” Vex said, and turned to her brother. “You were missed, Vax’ildan. Father was disappointed.”

“He can stay that way then. I’ve no desire to know about the hiring of carriage drivers.”

“He was disappointed in my general presence,” Vex said, and began walking back toward the castle. “Not with you.”

Vax followed after her, concern in his voice as he asked, “Did he say that?”

“Does he ever have to?”

He sighed. “I suppose not. If you really wanted me there—”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. Besides, the afternoon wasn’t a complete loss. The new craftsmen are...interesting, to say the least.”

“I’m sure.”

“Anyway, you’ll be expected at dinner, so don’t go disappearing on us then. I don’t want to be alone with him.”

“Devana and Velora will be there.”

Vex hummed. “Yes. Thank the gods for small favors, brother.”

As they reached the doors leading into the castle, Vax stopped. “...What do you mean by _interesting_?”

Vex shrugged. “I mean what I mean.”

“Yes, but—”

“I’m going upstairs to lie down, I’ll see you at dinner.”

Her brother sighed. “Of course, sister.”

 

* * *

 

“I saw the new artists while I was in lessons, papa.”

Syldor clucked his tongue. “They are not artists, Velora. They are craftsmen. Vax’ildan, you should have been there to meet them. It isn’t your sister’s responsibility.”

“Apologies, father. I was detained.”

“I do not think _gardening_ should take priority over your duties as my heir. What I require from you—”

“Syldor, darling, please.” Devana took a sip from her goblet. “Vax’ildan is perfectly capable of managing his own schedule, and his relationship with the castle staff is vital. They do not respect you,” she said, her tone rather clipped. Vex pressed her lips together and looked away from the table.

She did not love her step-mother, but she couldn’t pretend that Devana wasn’t a joy to have around. She respected the twins, let them have their space, and didn’t insult them. While Vex was sure she’d have preferred to see Velora be next in line, she wasn’t going to argue against the rule of bloodlines. And besides, Velora was full-blooded.

She was going to outlive her elder siblings by centuries. Devana Vessar could wait.

“Besides,” Devana said. “Vex’ahlia carried out whatever duties you seem to require of her brother quite well. Did you enjoy yourself today, darling?”

“I did.”

“Good. I am interested to see how this batch works out. It’d be a shame if short tempers won out over pure _talent_ , wouldn’t it, Syldor?”

Vex’ahlia’s father was silent. _Good_ , she thought. He needed to be taken down a peg or two.

Of course they’d all regret this hassling tomorrow, when he was in some foul mood or another. Perhaps, Vex thought, she’d go down to the where their new craftsmen were currently setting up shop. Being that she was not expected to rule, she could often escape her father’s shifting moods and disappear for hours at a time, very often with no one noticing.

That was how she found herself, the next day, making her way along the battlements asking after Percival de Rolo.

“Our new blacksmith? He’s over that way, in his forge.”

“Thank you, Harrison.”

“Ma’am.”

Vex lifted her skirts and made her way down the stone steps, toward the sound of hammer ringing bring in clear. It was a lovely noise, like a very sharp bell, or something crying out with joy. Heat was already emanating from the room, which was quite a relief considering the fall chill that had descended over castle in the last few days.

Percival worked steadily, hammering at something with no discernable shape. Vex’ahlia was engrossed in the process, enamored by the flames that licked up from the forge behind him, enraptured by the sparks that flew as he worked. Some landed a bit too close for comfort, but if her skirts went up in flames then _so be it._

Gods, he was a _joy_ to watch.

“Come for a show?” he asked, behind a mask. Vex jumped — she hadn’t realized he’d noticed.

“I’m doing an inspection of all my father’s new hires,” she lied with practiced ease. “You are simply one of many.”

Percival raised his mask. His bare arms were muscled and slick with sweat, already blackened from the soot of the flames. He must have already been at it for hours by the time she arrived. The thought sent a rare shiver down her spine.

“What can I do for you, your highness?”

“Nothing, ser.”

He sighed. “I have no title here. I’ve had none for quite some time.”

Vex stepped further in. “You _are_ lord of your house, aren’t you?”

“I am _a_ lord,” he said. “But I don’t know if that really counts for much.”

Vex decided to change the subject. “What are you making?”

Percival glanced at his work. “A ceremonial sword, for your brother. Your father said it was important it be finished soon.”

Ah, of course. For the Parade of Arms, something they did on the anniversary of the city’s founding every year. Vax’ildan would be formally named their father’s heir, in front of the people of Syngorn. It was not a popular choice, by any means. They were the daughters of his brief affair before his marriage to Devana, but they were his children all the same. Blood was blood, and a son was a son. Syldor could not afford to miss this chance.

“The parade isn’t for several weeks.”

Percival nodded. “Not to spoil the surprise, but I believe it is to be a birthday gift.”

“...Oh.”

“Perhaps, your highness, I’ll be asked to make one for you.”

Vex snorted. “Doubtful. I’m not allowed to use swords. Archery is where my talents lie.”

“Your father allows it?”

She shrugged. “He tolerates it. My stepmother enjoys it almost as much as I do, she’s rather accomplished at it. And she likes that I teach Velora as well.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I should go,” she said. “But it was nice to finally meet you, Percival.”

“And you as well, your highness.” He bowed his head and went back to his work.

 

* * *

 

“Ah,” her brother said on their birthday. “...It’s a sword.”

“It is a _ceremonial_ sword, Vax’ildan. Look!” Syldor lifted it from its box and showed the hilt to his son. “Your name, there, in elvish, and your future crest as king.”

“...Thank you, father. It’s...quite beautiful.”

“Yes,” Devana said. “It was crafted by our new blacksmith. He’s really very talented, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Vax said. “Quite.” He sighed and gave his father what he must have assumed passed for an appreciative smile. “This is a wonderful gift.”

Syldor wasn’t stupid, Vex’ahlia would always give her father that much, but if he found her brother’s response disappointing in any, he said nothing. Instead, he turned and offered a small box to Vex, and gave her a rare smile. “For you.”

This was a surprise. Vex had fully expected her father to forget that she _also_ happened to have a birthday today. All of his focus the past several months had been on getting Vax ready for the Parade of Arms, and while Vex did enjoy the lapses in attention paid to her, it was...nice, in all honesty, to receive a gift from her father.

She opened the box and set her eyes upon a gorgeous set of earrings, gold and inlaid with pearls. They were certainly not her usual style, but beautiful all the same.

“...Father.”

“Do they please you?”

“Yes,” she said, and immediately took out the gold studs she typically wore. The new earrings were heavy, clearly meant for special occasions.

“I thought you might wear them during the Parade,” Syldor said.

“Of course, father. They’re lovely.”

“I’m glad you like them,” he said, before turning to Vax again. “You’ll need to practice with the sword.”

“But I’m not a soldier.”

“It is customary and appropriate for you to understand how it is used, Vax’ildan. Your lessons start tomorrow.”

Vax sighed. “Yes, father.” He held the sword awkwardly in his hands before placing it back in the box.

The rest of their birthday passed with little incident, until Devana beckoned, at the end of the night, for Vex to follow her up to her room.

“I have something for you,” she said, before nodding for a guard to open the door. “These were delivered to me earlier this afternoon, from our blacksmith.” Vex felt her cheeks flush as Devana lifted a box from her desk and set it on her bed. “It was meant for you.”

“I’m not sure _why._ ”

“I know you’ve paid a visit or two, Vex. I’m not here to chastise you. Open it.”

Vex nodded and lifted the lid of the box. Inside were several arrows, each made with a bright blue fletching.

“Blue jay feathers. Hunting them is illegal, so he must have been collecting them.” Devana lifted one of the arrows to inspect it closer. “As I said earlier today, Lord de Rolo is quite talented.”

“I think he would protest the title,” Vex said without thought. She lifted an arrow herself and reached down to touch the tip. Sharp, it broke the skin with ease.

“He has a fondness for you, that much is obvious.”

Vex turned to her stepmother. “I highly doubt that. He only asked if I would be having a sword made, and I told him—”

“Don’t take it the wrong way, my dear. But... _do_ practice some caution, where handsome blacksmiths are concerned. Particularly ones under your father’s direction.”

Vex sighed. “I have no _intention_ of causing a scandal.”

Devana laughed. “Those at the center of scandal rarely do, Vex’ahlia. It is only a bit of advice from one woman to another.” She set the arrow back in the box and handed it to Vex. “Enjoy these. And do not let Velora get her hands on them. Gods know when we’d see them again.”

 

* * *

 

The sound of hammering coming from the forge was starting to become like a _song_ to Vex. She often gave herself an excuse to walk past, nodding to their new blacksmith as he worked at whatever projects her father and the various nobility assigned him. She had not thanked him for her gift, but she liked to think the communication between herself and Percival was at its best when it was silent.

Still, that did not mean she wasn’t immune to certain desires, one being to hear the sound of his voice. It was rich and cultured, the product of noble breeding and years of study. He was so _clever_ sounding, and just a short laugh from him was enough to sail her through to the end of the week.

It wasn’t hard to disappear from the castle. Unlike Vax, she was not expected to learn very much for the upcoming Parade, a fact that both enraged and pleased her, though she was often confused as to why, exactly. Vex’ahlia had no desire to be queen. She wanted to leave, in all honesty, but she couldn’t abandon her brother, or their half-sister. Her brief childhood spent outside the castle had not left her with many practical skills, and shooting targets in the garden with Velora was hardly preparation for a life of adventure. While she was pleased that the lack of expectations left her with as much time to herself as she please, she understood her existence for what it really was.

It was that freedom that kept her bound here, aimless.

Percival de Rolo would make a fine target.

He was hard at work when she came round to pester him one chilly afternoon, her shawl wrapped tight around her shoulders. “What are you working on now?” she asked.

He glanced up, pushing the mask off his face. “Your highness. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve come to get warm by the forge,” she said, and moved further in to stand closer to the fire. “Is that another sword?”

“No,” he said, and showed her. “A dagger. Keyleth told me your brother prefers them. I thought you might give this to him.”

This revelation threw her off. First, that Keyleth and Percival had been spending any time together at all, and second, that he would take this bit of information and _act_ on it.

“...Is that not appropriate?” he asked. “I only meant it as a gesture of good will, your brother’s been very kind to me, as has your father—”

“No,” she said quickly. “No, it’s perfect. Keyleth is right, my brother does prefer daggers. He just rarely has a chance to use them.”

“Well, perhaps he will with this one.” He smiled. “I’m also working on your father’s commissions, and some others.” He pointed toward a shield in the corner. “That’s for the Parade. I’ve brought bits of stone from home, I had hoped I’d be able to use them.”

Vex stood and went to the corner, struggling to heft the shield onto the table. Percival came around and helped her, looking pleased with his work.

“The pride and joy of Whitestone,” Vex murmured, brushing her fingers over the polished stone inlaid into the shield. “How lovely.”

“They’re rather rough when you take them out of the earth,” Percival explained, and brought one over to her. “See?” He set it in her palm. Vex admired the stone — despite being freshly mined, it still shone in the flickering fire of the forge, sparkling almost like a diamond. “Like most things, it looks better once it’s been cleaned up.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Vex said absently. “I find I appreciate things like this most when they’re rather... _natural._ ” She glanced at him, at his sweat-slicked cheeks and arms darkened with soot. It took him a moment to notice, and when he did, he turned away.

“I should return to work.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Vex set down the stone and made her way toward the door. “Oh!” She turned back to him. “I really came to thank you,” she said. “For the arrows.”

Percival glanced up and smiled. “I’m glad you liked them.”

Vex nodded. He pulled his mask down, and she left the forge behind.

Not quite a bullseye, but she was getting close.

 

* * *

 

As the Parade of Arms drew closer, Vex found herself increasingly frustrated. Her father’s indifference toward her was mounting — the attention he’d given her, the joy with which he’d gifted her the earrings — it all disappeared in the days before the Parade. Her brother often found himself on the very opposite end of all things, completely overwhelmed by their father’s attention, the likes of which he paid neither of them in years, if he had at all. Their human mother had died when they were nine, and he’d taken them in without thought, of course, but what use were his two half-elf children in court.

All they did was serve to embarrass him, remind him of his wandering eye.

It was only when he learned that Velora could not replace Vax’ildan as his heir that he bothered to care. Well, Vex supposed he’d cared to some extent before then. She did not believe their father didn’t love them, but they could give him little. Vax’s coming of age meant he was now useful — not just to their father, but to all of Syngorn. Vax would be able to serve as ambassador, as a mouthpiece to the throne, a jewel upon the family crown.

And now, two days before the Parade, and late for his sword practice, Vax’ildan was nowhere to be found.

“Where _is_ he?” Syldor demanded. “This is a very important lesson.”

“Perhaps he is overwhelmed,” Devana said dryly from behind her book.

“I haven’t seen him,” Velora said. She swung the wooden sword she’d been permitted to play with happily. “And I wanted to spar with him.”

Syldor turned to Vex who simply nodded and got to her feet. Finding Vax was one of her more useful skills, at least to her father. She walked across the battlements, keeping a watchful eye on the garden below. Keyleth’s familiar shock of red hair stood out to her among the green, but her brother did not. Vex went down into the garden.

“Keyleth, darling, have you seen my brother?”

Keyleth looked up, wiping dirt from her freckled cheeks and smiling. “I haven’t, your highness. Not all day, actually.”

Vex frowned. “Father’s looking for him.”

Keyleth sighed. “Yeah, I figured.” She glanced across the way. “You should try the forge. He’s taken to chatting with Percy in the afternoons.”

“Thanks, Keyleth.”

Keyleth nodded and went back to working at her roses.

Vex lifted her skirts and made her way toward the forge. It was uncharacteristically quiet, for the afternoon, and as she drew closer she knew she could hear both Percival’s distinctive tones as well as her brother’s.

“—expectations I can’t meet, you know.”

“Perhaps that’s a conversation to have with him.”

Vax laughed. “I couldn’t. He took us in, I should...I should do as I’m asked.”

“You have other options.”

“No,” Vax said. “I don’t. When we lost our mother, Syldor took us in. This is...this is where we belong now.”

“Well. If there is one thing that I have learned the last several years, it is that you can make yourself belong nearly anywhere.”

Vax laughed again, and Vex took the opportunity to make herself known.

“You’re wanted for your training, brother.”

Vax looked up. “I’m — oh. Damn.” He stood. “I...lost track of time. I’m sorry,” he said, going to her and kissing her cheek. “Thank you for telling me.” He squeezed her hand and turned to Percival. “Thank you,” he said. “For listening.”

“Of course.”

Vax sighed and smiled and Vex before heading out of the forge.

The little building was quiet until Percival began shifting about some of his tools. “Your highness,” he said.

“Does my brother come to you with his problems very often?”

“No,” he said. “Today was the first time.”

Vex nodded. She touched the door frame, aware of Percival’s gaze on her.

“Thank you,” she finally said. “For talking with him. We used to share things with one another, but since our father decided Vax would take over some of his duties, it’s been...difficult.”

“I could only ever imagine, your highness.”

“No,” Vex said. “I’m quite sure you could understand.”

He looked up. “I would never even pretend—”

“Enough of that, Percy. Please.”

He laughed. “ _Percy_ , is it?”

“Yes.” Vex forced a smile. “We’re friends now, are we not?”

“Hm.” He seemed to consider her. “Yes,” he decided. “Yes, alright. Percy will do. And you? Am I allowed to call you anything else?”

“No,” Vex said coolly. “Your highness will continue to suffice.” She smiled his way one last time and turned with a flourish.

“Yes,” she heard him say. “I suppose it will.”

 

* * *

 

The night before the Parade, a soft knock came at her door, and Vex knew who it would be before he entered.

“What’s the matter, Scrawny?”

Vax sighed and fell backwards onto her bed. “Are you angry that I talked to the de Rolo boy before you?”

Vex considered this. “No,” she decided. “Not really.”

“It’s only because...because he’s a lord and I thought—”

Vex reached forward and brushed the hair from her brother’s face. “Please don’t explain yourself to me, darling. I know it’s been a very rough year for you.”

Vax scowled. “This isn’t _rough_ ,” he said. “Losing our mother was rough, coming to court for the first time was rough. Hearing what they called us—”

“That’s quite enough,” Vex said quickly. Vax pressed his lips together. “If you do not want this, brother, then tell him.”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s an option anymore.”

“Abdicate your place on the throne.”

He snorted. “And then do what? Run off? Beg for some cushy job in government? He wouldn’t hear of it.”

“He wouldn’t,” Vex admitted, and stretched out next to him. “We are certainly in a strange situation, aren’t we?”

“Yes. Centuries of limbo, waiting for a perfectly healthy elf to kick it.”

“He may outlive us.”

Vax laughed. “Gods above, you’re _right._ He very well might. Still, he can’t put all this on Velora. Not just yet.”

“For what it’s worth,” Vex said, taking his hand in hers. “He does seem proud of you.”

“I suppose. But where does all this leave you?”

Vex shrugged. “I don’t know. Happy to have my freedom, I suppose.”

Vax snorted. “You and I both know freedom is just a fancy word for prison. In _this_ case,” he added.

Vex sat up. “Then what do you intend to do about it? Because I can only see two options, brother, and you are not the kind to run from your problems.”

“No,” he said. “I’m not.” He sat up with her. “If I go through with this...if tomorrow I...I agree to it all, will that please you?”

“Does it matter?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Vax said. “Yes, of course! Your happiness is paramount.” He took her hands and gathered them up, pressing his lips to her knuckles. “Never apart, Stubby. You know this.”

Vex laughed at her old nickname and embraced him. “You are a terror, brother. I hope you know this.”

For a while, they held one another. It was simple and easy, she thought, just like it’d always been.

“You know,” she said softly, “the court...they expect you to be a coward. They expect you to waiver.”

“I know.”

Vex pulled back. “You could show them all. You could accept it and you could be the first half-elf king of Syngorn.”

“With you as my closest advisor.”

Vex laughed and fell onto her back. “Oh they’d _die_ , wouldn’t they?”

Vax looked down at her and smiled. “Yes,” he said. “They certainly would.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I feel better,” he added. “Just...got cold feet.” He moved from her bed and stepped back. “That blacksmith’s really taken a liking to you,” he added. “Just so you know.”

“You don’t approve.”

“How could I? He’s clever and pretentious, I detest that in most anyone. But he’s also kind,” Vax said. “And he spoke quite highly of you.”

“Careful,” she said. “I may cause a scandal.”

“Perhaps you should,” Vax said coolly, and went to the door. “Take a bit of the pressure off me.”

 

* * *

 

The day after the Parade of Arms, two very important things happened.

The first was that her brother, the little _shit_ , did indeed name Vex’ahlia as his advisor. It was, to Vex’s surprise, entirely approved by her father, who as per usual did not crack a smile nor tilt a brow throughout the announcement.

“You have always been your brother’s keeper,” was all he said, when Vex asked if the decision pleased him.

In ten years, her father had not told her he loved her. That would likely be the closest she’d ever get.

And so, with a skip in her step, despite the first snow, the second important thing happened.

Vex’ahlia got her bullseye.

 

* * *

 

“Those are your brother’s clothes,” Percy said, standing in the doorway to the forge. “And it is very late, your highness.”

“I know.” Vex slipped past him and stood in the middle of the room, enjoying the heat of the fire behind her. “Are you going to let the door hang open all night, Percival?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her and sighed. “Of course not,” he said, and pushed it shut.

“Turn the lock,” she said.

He did.

Vex smiled. “Good boy.”

Percy walked toward her, cleaner than he’d been when she’d seen him earlier that day. “What are you doing, Vex?” he asked quietly. It was the first time he’d said her name, and all the resolve and bravado she’d come here with seemed to melt.

“I…”

“Because if it was to seduce me, I’ll have you know that you succeeded at that weeks ago.”

“...Did I?”

“Oh yes.” He stepped closer. “I gathered blue jay feathers for you, princess.” He reached out and took one from the table. “See?”

“I do.”

Percy leaned in and tucked one behind her ear. “I worried I’d made my feelings too obvious then.”

“I thought you were just being kind.”

“I was,” he admitted. “And I haven’t done too many kind things in my life, truth be told.”

Vex reached up where his hand still lingered at her ear and pressed it to her cheek. “There isn’t enough gold in the world to convince me you could be cruel.”

“I could though,” he said, and their noses touched. “I could be very cruel.”

“Liar,” she breathed.

“Ah,” he said, and placed his other hand against her cheek. “If you only knew the half of it.”

He kissed her, and Vex felt herself let go. Her hand gripped the front of his shirt and her tongue pushed against his. The fire roared behind them, but it could not compare to the flame that was ignited inside her, licking up, through her nerves and under her skin, flashing from the tips of her fingers as she took one hand and threaded it through his hair, holding him fast to her.

She _ached_. She had been aching for weeks now, but in the heat of this particular moment, it consumed her. Vex felt Percy push, and then she pulled, and they tumbled back toward his cot in the corner, hands pulling at clothes, trying to undress one another as quick as they could. Vex brought her hands under his shirt and pushed it up, palms pressing against the sturdy plane of his stomach. His strong arms lifted her, setting her on the bed as he reached down to undo the ties of her breeches.

Vex gasped as her bare skin met the air of the forge. Her boots were lost, somewhere, and then his hand was suddenly at her core, pressing against her smalls, while his teeth scraped the length of her neck.

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be taken roughly in the forge by the mysterious blacksmith?”

“ _Percy_ —”

“Did you lay in your bed at night and think about it?”

“Gods, _yes._ ”

“Good,” he said, pulling back to kiss her gently. “Glad you’ve gotten it out of your system.”

Vex hummed, not really sure what he was saying to her through the haze of arousal. “I really just wanted you.”

Percy laughed. “You are exquisite, you know that?”

“I could stand to hear it said a bit more often,” she murmured, just before two of his fingers slipped under her smalls and slid inside.

Vex arched against him, crying out as his fingers pressed inside her, stroking at just the right angle. _Gods_ above it had been ages since she’d been properly fucked. Her own ministrations couldn’t compare to the expert teasing of Percy’s touch, which stoked the flame inside her ever higher. She gasped as a third finger entered her, and Percy’s teeth nipped at her earlobe as he whispered, “ _Exquisite._ ”

“Please,” she begged “Percy—”

“Please, what?”

Vex turned her head and kissed him, searing and desperate. “I need you,” she said.

“Oh, my dear,” he said, laughing. “I was going to tell you the exact same thing.” He pulled away from her, leaving Vex to wiggle out of her smalls and pull off her shirt. She caught the blue jay feather as she did and it fluttered to the bed. When she looked up, Percy was shirtless and reaching for the strings of his breeches.

They watched one another, for just a moment, before he reached out and cupped her cheek.

“This could be a terrible mistake.”

“I’ve made a career of them,” she answered, kissing his palm.

“And I am glad to hear it.” He eased her back as he slipped his breeches down. Vex reached for him without thought, stroking his length. He groaned against her mouth and her legs fell open for him. “Yeah?” he asked, as the tip of his cock pressed against her. Vex nodded, and with an expert roll of his hips, his slid inside her. It was slow, at first, the two of them both growing accustomed to the feel of the other. Vex hadn’t been with someone in a while, and judging by the tremble that went through him, Percy hadn’t either.

“It’s alright,” she said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “It’s fine.”

“ _You_ —”

“I know,” she said. “And you.”

“ _Gods_ , Vex.”

“Take it slow, darling. I’m not going anywhere.”

Percy nodded, thrusting into her a few times, trying to find his rhythm. Vex, let herself relax, twining one leg around his waist as he began to move in earnest. There was a moment of discomfort, but it gave way to a steady pressure as he found the proper pace. Vex moaned, threading her fingers through his hair and holding him close to her. He was absolutely perfect, he felt incredible, and she knew that, next time, he would look _beautiful_ underneath him.

He slowed down, hissing with anticipation of his climax. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Gods, I can’t—”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s alright.”

Percy gasped and pulled out, coming with a groan over her stomach. He collapsed beside her, breathing heavy.

“Next time,” he said, pushing himself off the bed. “I swear, next time.”

Vex _purred._ “You’re certainly right there’ll be a next time.” She watched him clean her with his shirt. “And next time, you — _ah!_ ” She cried out as he suddenly lowered his mouth onto her cunt. “ _Percy—_ ” He said nothing, simply pressed the flat of his tongue to her clit before sliding two fingers inside her. “ _Gods_ , Percy.” Vex bucked against him, pleaded for more and more as he brought her closer and closer until she came with a cry, clenching around him. He stayed there for a moment, feeling her through the aftershocks, before lifting his head and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking rather smug.

“Stop that,” she muttered, and fell back with a groan.

“Satisfied, your highness?”

She kicked him weakly. “I’ll have you banished.”

“Only if you go with me,” he murmured, and held her close.

 _Gods_ , she thought. _I wish._

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ weatheredlaw


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